Steps finally happened and I finally moved to the Bay; it all transpired within a few weeks time. To my father’s description of yours truly “she’s impetuous”…that wasn’t a compliment. However, in his defense, I am. Life’s too short and I find that if I think things out too much, I tend not to follow through…mostly because I am a tried and true over-analyzing fucktard.

So as the move went: up at 3:30am, on the road by 5am; shitty McDonalds breakfast; shitty coffee; shitty central California drive; beautiful sunrise; beautiful Bay. Being that mostly all of my belongings are still in Seattle, this was an easy move and unpacking venture; literally an hour.

I’ve been here 3 weeks now, managed a job in a very no brainer environment in the Mission district of SF. I’m unpacked. I have an honest to goodness bed, all my own to stretch my lovely limbs upon, for the first time in 8months. I’ve already had my lovely Frenchie road bike boyfriend Frankenstein stolen from me (a sign I’m truly a resident) and I’ve been exploring my surroundings and making new acquaintances. I have to say that after the initial loneliness of the first couple of weeks subsided; I’m feeling pretty good knowing that I’m sticking around some place for a good amount of time.

Being a nomad had its perks but it was also very daunting. I wouldn’t trade it though, it was an amazing experience to be able to get up and go. And who knows where life will take me in the future but I can firmly say that it’s not so difficult to pick up and go on an adventure…

For now, I’m fully enjoying this bed and being in one place for a while